Could Be Fragile
by mrsremusjohnlupin
Summary: He was wearing a simple white shirt and his eyes were downcast as he scribbled more information on the paper. But behind those long lashes held orbs of deep brownish gold that had made her sister swoon. Written for The Long Wait Challenge.


For the week, there had been few witches and wizards who checked in to the ward. They were few and far between, which left Padma plenty of time to do almost nothing. Between patients, she was able to file any paperwork that needed to be done and read the book she had purchased on Charms. However, there was a lady in the door across from her station who seemed to enjoy her company. She had checked in two days ago after slipping on some ice outside of her house. Her bones were too fragile to give her Skelegro, so the most they could really do was numb the pain and wait for nature to take its course.

She had worked in the small ward on the Fourth Floor of St. Mungo's for almost two years now. After Hogwarts, she had trained as a Healer and decided that it was not the perfect job for her. Where she worked now was a reception desk for the hidden ward where she was able to tend to all patients. It was for the minor injuries that could be fixed quickly, such as a broken bone or a minor backfiring jinx. But, it was also where the old went to die without pain. Almost always, it gave Padma a chance to befriend them, only to watch them be mourned over by family members when they were taken away to be prepared for a funeral.

Although she was in the least-hectic ward in the entire hospital (and the tiniest), she was not totally useless. It was her who had set in motion ordering weekly subscriptions to Witch Weekly, The Daily Prophet, and several other magazines for the reception area on the ground floor. St. Mungos had plenty of Galleons to afford to keep patients up to date, and others had agreed.

But any success she had had would not stop the fact that she would be going home to an empty flat, where she would have to get ready to go out with the blind date her sister had set her up with. Her sister had been dating a guy for a year and seemed to think that Padma would not be happy unless she was set up with all of his friends.

Squeaking shoes along the floor made her shove her book down, forgetting to mark her place. She snatched a quill and then dipped it into a bottle of ink, scrambling to look busy. Not that the person she had worked under for two years (therefore could distinguish his footsteps from others) was strict, but she wanted to seem as professional as possible to him or anyone else who entered her ward. However, all he did was walk by without saying anything and then left through the double doors at the end of the hall. Padma sighed and sat back, placing the quill on her desk.

"Madame Padma," she heard from the open door across from where she sat. She stood and navigated herself around the desk. When she got into the room, she beamed at the bed-ridden lady.

"Hello there miss McCormick. How are you feeling? Any pain?"

"Deary, how many times have I told you to call me Amelia? And no, I am bloody brilliant. Just dying."

Padma stopped in mixing the potion ingredients and glanced over at her and watched the eighty-nine year old roll her eyes.

"Oh please," Amelia spoke. "If we can't be blunt, then we are lying. Why lie to oneself? You're only buggering yourself."

"Drink this," Padma handed her the potion containing a simple mixture to make pain disappear.

"I don't _need_ that," Amelia waved her hand, dismissing the potion. "I need my family."

Out of all her two years, the people that entered with a ticket out on a gurney who had no visitors were the ones that she felt for. So when she opened her mouth, she had no idea what she was going to say to make her drink the potion.

But she was spared from having to say anything at all.

"Don't _look_ at me like that. I'll drink the blasted potion," she snatched it from Padma's hand, sloshing it a bit down the sides. Padma grabbed a towel from a side closet and cleaned the mess from the floor. She then took out her wand and dampened it, handing it to Amelia to wipe her hands off. "What were you reading out there?" Amelia pointed toward the desk, which was visible from the bed.

Padma took the towel when it was offered to her. "A book on Charms."

"Learn anything you could show me?"

Her wand was still in her hand, and she placed the towel on the side table. "Alright, I'll show you. But I haven't been able to practice it yet and the wand movement is rather complicated. And you can't tell anyone."

Amelia grinned and crossed her hands on her lap. "I won't tell anyone."

Padma stood at the end of her bed with her back to the door and cast one more glance at her suspicious form before raising her wand toward the wall. She flicked her wand then swished it to the side, flinging it in front of her only to pull it back towards her again. A wave motion in front of her face, and then she turned to her other side, bringing the wand back then forward again, saying the incantation.

The wall burst into light then, shades of pink and red lighting the whole room. Padma smiled at the wall and then turned to the slow clap she heard. But when she saw Amelia was not looking at her or the wall she followed her gaze to someone standing in the doorway. Padma saw Amelia's hands go to her mouth as she covered her obvious glee and surprise.

"Well, I am just… chuffed to bits," Amelia finally spoke. Padma turned to the wall to take the charm off as fast as she could. When she looked back into the newly dim room, the person was now at Amelia's side. Instead of badgering the visitor about signing in, she left the room.

"Let me know if you need anything Amelia," it was not until she was back to her desk that Padma realized she had used her patient's first name without even really thinking about it.

Padma was placing her quill back into the small bottle of ink when movement from the room caught her eye. Distracted, she managed to knock the ink over and only looked down when it had spilled across the whole paper she had been writing on.

She sprung into action at once, moving the other papers out of the way from the river of black. Then, she took her wand from her pocket and pointed it at the mess. "_Scourgify_," cleaning charms had never been her best skill, which was unfortunate for someone who worked under a Healer. They were incapable of cleaning up after themselves. But she had forgotten to put a protection charm over the papers that had been brought to her that morning, so she only stared at the huge black thing that used to have words on it.

"You could always reverse it," the masculine voice near her ear made Padma jump, and her head collided with something hard that jerked back. While she rubbed the spot that was hit, she raised her eyes to someone else doing the same.

If she had not been at work, she may have cursed. However, even then, she may have been far too shocked to say anything. Now, her mouth fell open in a small 'o' while her eyes became bigger than usual. It took her a moment to regain herself and get over the initial shock. She coughed and blinked, her eyes returning to their original size.

"Padma Patil," he spoke from across the thin desk. He must have been leaning over it to see what she was doing. She would have been even more surprised that he remembered her, but she knew that she had on a nametag.

"Cormac McLaggen," now that he was here, she mentally slapped herself for not noticing the resemblance between Amelia and him. Now, she did not know what to say to him, it had been so long since she had last seen him. "Did you sign in?"

He laughed; a soft sound that sent a miniscule shiver down her spine. "No, I have not."

Padma pushed a clipboard towards him and then grabbed the quill from her desk, which still had ink on it, refusing to meet his eyes. But she could feel his on her as he took the offered quill and began scratching his name into the parchment attached to the wood.

Then she risked a glance at him as she started to aimlessly shuffle through some folders. His light hair was sticking up in many places, too tidy for it to have been an accident. He was wearing a simple white shirt and his eyes were downcast as he scribbled more information on the paper. But behind those long lashes held orbs of deep brownish gold that had made her sister swoon.

When he glanced up she was still staring at him, and she rushed to look as if she was searching just past his shoulder.

"She's my grandmother," Cormac said and Padma was shocked that it had worked. A small flush began on her cheeks as she squinted into the open doorway.

"She is a lovely lady," now that she thought about it, Padma was wondering why he had not visited sooner. A small flame of anger bubbled in her stomach but she shoved it aside. "She was asking about you," despite her efforts, that snide remark made it through her mouth.

"Really?" he stopped writing now and held the tip of the quill towards her. Padma placed her finger on it, careful not to let their skin touch. But when she pulled it away his fingertips brushed the side of her hand.

"Not just you," for some reason, not being able to keep any contact out of the meeting made her feel as if she lost something. A kind of contest or battle. "Any family, really."

Any reaction but the one she got would have been acceptable. Shame, guilt, sorrow, anger. No, not for Cormac. He chuckled. The death-glare he received was most definitely not St. Mungo's appropriate, but Padma could not help herself. "Sorry," he spoke the right word, but it had no meaning, because he was still smiling. "But she is not the nicest of ladies. Few members of the family like her."

"Why? Did she not give you loads of her family fortune? Love not enough?" now she was fired up, ready to snap at even the slightest hint that he was ready to argue with her as well.

"Actually… yes," his smile dropped somewhat as he shook his head and leaned onto the counter. Padma took a step back on instinct. "We were all having a hard time before the war and barely scraped by."

Padma huffed as she took her place closer to the desk back. She began moving the folders onto the desk again since the ink was gone. The whole pile at once was too much for her and she began to stagger backwards until a moment later she felt a body enclose hers.

"Here, let me help you," together they sat the pile on the flat surface. Padma was finding it much more difficult to be mad at him when she could smell his musty and spicy apple scent. Her mind was starting to go a bit hazy until he backed up and placed a fallen folder onto the pile.

Shaking her head, Padma cleared it. "That should not have been her problem to try and fix," but the fire was gone.

"Exactly my thought. No one else in my family will agree with me, but still… I'd like to think she deserves to be with someone," he shrugged his shoulders and looked solemn for the first time since she had seen him. "She was always so kind to me."

"What… what is she doing now?" Padma had faltered, and she was unsure why. She had never seen him so fragile before, and he used to always be so upbeat in her time of knowing him. The last time she saw him he was being his usual arrogant self. Once, they had even gotten into an argument after he had broken up with her sister for another girl, and she had almost pulled her wand on him.

"Told me she needed to take a kip," he put his hands into the pockets of his Muggle slacks, which were now visible in her line of vision. Then, his eyes found hers, and the wetness was obvious. "I would have been here sooner, but I had a Quidditch game in Tutshill. She really likes you, you know. I haven't seen her smile like that for so long."

She was about to speak when he emitted a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair with enough force to make Padma cringe. He then turned around and stalked to the set of seats that ran along the wall in the white, always-cold hallway. The way he slumped into the seat, like the weight of the world was pushing him down, had Padma's feet moving to him without her thinking about it.

His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands covered his face. He pulled his head up enough to peek at her from over the tips of his splayed fingers. "Is she going to die?"

When she did not answer right away, he began to tremble, and he hid his eyes once again. Padma sat down in the empty seat beside him and shifted her legs so she was facing him as best that she could. In a moment such as that, words could be fragile. It could either hurt or heal the person.

"I'm sorry, Cormac," she placed her hand on one of his that was covering his face and gave it a gentle squeeze. And she really meant it. She listened as a small sob escaped her twin sister's ex-boyfriend's mouth and knew that there was nothing she could do to stop the pain. Grief could not be fixed with a potion or charm. It took time, Padma knew from experience, for that hole to heal. "Did you at least win the game?"

For the third time that afternoon, Cormac's chuckle filled the quiet hallway. Then the door opened and Padma stood, ready for whatever patient needed her next. But first, she felt a hand on her arm and swiveled around. "Thank you," he said, and she flashed him a smile.

"Tea room is on the Fifth Floor. You seem like you could use a cup," then she bid him farewell and rushed to the Healer's aid.

* * *

_Author's note;_

Well it took me long enough, but I finally finished this fic.

It was for a challenge over at the **HPFC **forum.

Thanks again to my H. Piddy Beta, **_Chatterbox Angel_**, who has been a lot of help.

_Please_ take some time out of your busy day and ReViEw. (:


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